


What Have You Done To Me

by Lovefushsia



Series: Sex Solves Everything [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bottom Sherlock Holmes, But John has it under control, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Height Differences, John is in charge, M/M, POV John Watson, POV Sherlock Holmes, Shower Sex, Top John, Wall Sex, and
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 04:37:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7962742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovefushsia/pseuds/Lovefushsia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John has a point to prove as they stumble home to 221B from a case, and Sherlock is instantly pressed to the wall. </p><p>Pure smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Have You Done To Me

John gripped Sherlock’s wrist and spun him around, pressing his chest to the wall. “Losing my strength, am I?” John murmured, as he pushed up onto his toes to kiss Sherlock’s neck.

“Ahh... Just a joke,” Sherlock sighed out, leaning back into John’s body.

John smirked and pushed against him, nudging his already hardening cock into Sherlock’s arse. Sherlock took in a sharp breath and craned his head around to try to meet John’s lips. John forced his arm into his back a little way, not to hurt his friend, just to reaffirm his position.

“John.” The gasped whisper flooded John with heat and he slackened his grip and pulled at Sherlock’s shoulder to turn his back to the wall and closed in eagerly, encircling his lover’s neck and pulling him into a kiss, teasing that plump lower lip between his teeth. Sherlock groaned into his mouth and reached for John, but John wrapped his fingers around Sherlock’s slender wrists, pinning them by his sides.

“Uh-uh,” he murmured around Sherlock’s lip, trying not to grin.

Sherlock’s eyes were wide for a moment but then he frowned and relaxed into John’s hands. “Ok,” he whispered, when John finally let go of his lips. “You’ve got me.”

John nodded, smiling now, feeling Sherlock’s racing pulse. He wanted to bring Sherlock out of himself, make him lose his cool; to cry out John’s name as he pounded into him. His breath hitched at the thought and he kissed him again, closing the space between their bodies as he held Sherlock against the wall.

“John, touch me, please,” Sherlock huffed out when they parted again. John released his hands, pulled him away from the wall for another kiss before forcing him back again. Sherlock was smiling as John tore open his shirt at the neck, knowing it was only one that he had given to him, not a favourite of Sherlock’s. Buttons popped and fell to the floor and John began to kiss and suck at the pale, freckled skin he exposed. Sherlock’s free hand slid into John’s hair and it felt so good he couldn’t bring himself to restrain his hand again. Sherlock was mumbling encouragement as John moved lower down his chest, but he stopped short of his friend’s belt and stood up again to push the shirt off Sherlock’s shoulders, clasping Sherlock’s wrists again.

Sherlock stared, lids heavy and John kissed him again, skimming their mouths together before sliding his tongue between those full, pink lips and groaning as Sherlock let him in. Leaving him breathing heavily was a good start, John thought as he pulled away. Sherlock was still pressed to the wall but he sagged a little as John tugged him gently by the wrists. He chuckled as Sherlock slowly lowered to his knees, eyeing John’s groin. “Later,” he murmured and released his hold on his friend’s wrists as he tucked his hands under his armpits to raise him up again.

“Can’t John,” Sherlock murmured.

“Yes, you can, I’ve got you,” John whispered, easing him back up and wrapping one arm around his waist to keep him on his feet, turning them and heading for the stairs. “One at a time, ok? Unless you wanted to give Mrs Hudson a show.”

Sherlock glared at him and John laughed. “Come on,” he said, and they took the stairs slowly. Halfway up they both stumbled and Sherlock ended up kneeling on one step, hands on the step above. “Ow,” he said. “John, what have you done to me?”

“Nothing, yet,” John told him. “You’ll miss out if you don’t get moving.” Sherlock groaned again and John was pulled in for a kiss. “Ok, on your feet,” he said, in danger of losing himself to Sherlock’s touch if he didn’t keep up this little game.

Sherlock made it up the next few steps, John’s hands firmly gripping his hips this time and when they reached the top he shoved a little, not letting go, until Sherlock was against the wall again. John was hoping this wasn’t just a one-time thing at this point, as he was really enjoying this side of Sherlock, and himself.

He pressed in close for another lingering kiss as Sherlock grabbed at him where he could. “Where..?” Sherlock breathed and John glanced around.

“Right here?” he said, stripping off his jacket and shirt and unbuttoning his jeans. Sherlock’s breathing was rapid as he watched, wide-eyed. John pressed a hand flat to his chest and kissed him firmly, touching Sherlock everywhere but where he knew he was most desperate for it. John wanted him begging. When he pulled away, Sherlock’s head fell back and he was smiling, still clutching to John’s bicep and John ran his hands down his heaving chest and tucked his fingers into Sherlock’s waistband, pulling him lightly away from the wall. “Ok, so maybe not right here,” he said with a wink. He had a better idea. “I need a shower,” he said casually, as he walked backwards and nodded over his shoulder as Sherlock moved along with him. “You should join me.”

Sherlock was nodding before John had finished speaking. “Yes, John, yes,” he said, taking hold of John’s free hand.

They’d not actually showered together before, been in the bathroom together often enough, and John had thought more than a couple of times that he needed to be as close as possible to Sherlock’s naked, dripping wet body, running slippery hands over his toned chest and stomach - John grabbed him and they got to the bathroom, kicking off shoes by the door and he shoved Sherlock in and slammed the door behind them.

***

They stared for a moment, hands poised over belts and buttons and then they moved together and trousers and underwear landed at their feet as they came together in the middle of the room. John reached out mid-embrace with one hand to turn on the shower and then grabbed Sherlock’s hips, pulling their bodies close and rubbing their groins together. Sherlock groaned aloud when he felt how hard John was. John twisted them around and grinned as he stepped into the bathtub and pulled Sherlock with him. He could hardly catch his breath but John wasn’t letting up, he pushed him forcefully, never losing his grip on Sherlock’s arm, into the tiled back wall and Sherlock felt the adrenaline rush through him again as he was held by John’s solid weight and strength. He tried to calm his breathing but with the rush of water around them and John’s chest pressed against his, it was all he could do to take in what air he could before John’s lips  were crushing against his waiting mouth, always more than he could have imagined a kiss would be. He needed John’s hands on him.

“Please,” he gasped into John’s mouth, before another kiss engulfed him. His knees were weak but even as he felt himself sliding a little against the tiles John pressed more firmly against him, taking his weight with an arm around his waist.

“Turn around,” John whispered into Sherlock’s ear, just audible above the water rushing around them, Sherlock felt a shiver overtake his whole system, and he was turning before he even processed the idea. “Palms on the wall,” John told him and Sherlock groaned as he complied, shakily. John’s hands slipped around him from behind, supporting him, always there. John kissed his shoulder, his neck, Sherlock knew he was on tiptoes and that got him more aroused than this new position. He reached one arm back to try to stroke John’s hip or maybe grab his hand but John took it gently and pressed it back to the wall with a chuckle and a nip at Sherlock’s neck.

He kissed his way down Sherlock’s back, smoothing his slippery hands over Sherlock’s heated skin. Sherlock found himself leaning into the cool tiles, pressing his cheek to them, trying to keep his breathing steady. Finally he felt lips on his arse cheeks, accompanied by John’s massaging hands and he let out his breath in a rush as he gave himself over to John. He risked a look over his shoulder to see John crouched down behind him, hands busy while he kissed and licked at Sherlock’s skin, water tumbling around him, matting his short hair, dripping down his naked skin. John’s name escaped his lips again and again, no other word really mattered.

Soon enough Sherlock felt a change as John’s fingers moved around to grasp his hips and he pushed his tongue between Sherlock’s cheeks. Sherlock nearly lost it with that first touch of slippery pleasure. He had never felt anything like John’s touch in this way - nerve endings tingled as Sherlock pushed back unconsciously to get more of John’s tongue inside him. Fingers squeezed his hips, encouraging Sherlock’s movements, bringing him into a gentle rhythm. John was sucking and murmuring and then there was the pressure of a finger teasing beside his tongue, and John thankfully pre-empted Sherlock’s jolt of surprise and held him fast, forcing him to fully embrace the pleasure.

Sherlock groaned and panted and kept his hands flat to the wall and pressed his forehead to the tiles, whispering words of encouragement and desire to his lover, hoping John could hear over the water but unable to raise his voice to ensure it. The click of a bottle top made him look down to see John smiling around a mouthful of bum cheek, squeezing lube onto his fingers and winking up at Sherlock. Sherlock nodded, desperate now, needing John’s fingers back inside him, his cock - he was trying to get his breathing under control but it was impossible. He wondered vaguely if he might pass out without enough air, but the facts, unbidden, told him that he was fine.

John eased his hips a little further back, tugged at each leg until Sherlock’s feet were spread, their height difference had never stopped them and John seemed to have this new position sorted out. His hands didn’t leave Sherlock’s skin for long, when they did John was pressed against him so they were still connected. Sherlock looked behind him again and almost choked out a cry to see John slicking up his cock, oh-so-slowly. Their eyes met and John smiled as Sherlock failed to stop a moan. John’s finger had eased inside him again, twisting gently back and forth, loosening up the tight muscles of his arse and Sherlock could only grit his teeth to stop the stream of begging which threatened as he waited through this already intense pleasure.

John stopped the torture soon enough and Sherlock felt his fingers slip out, felt his hole clench around air and lube and water, and finally came the gorgeous press of John’s hot, solid cock and Sherlock’s hands pressed harder into the wall, knuckles turning white, eyes screwed shut, skin burning hot even under the cool water splashing over his shoulders - and John edged inside him with slow, slick easy movements. The sounds they made became one, John rocked into Sherlock’s body and he shifted his hips back each time John thrust forward. John had one strong hand under Sherlock’s chest, the other holding firm to his hip and Sherlock felt the touch of lips to his shoulder and neck as that hand smoothed its way around to his back and up into his hair, taking a firm hold of Sherlock’s curls and pulling a little in time with his thrusts.

“John... John,” Sherlock cried out, as his whole body began to tighten and tense, he couldn’t stop his orgasm rushing up now as John’s rhythm seemed to peak and falter, hips stuttering and slamming erratically against Sherlock’s arse, and lips and teeth met tender flesh as John bit down on the juncture of Sherlock’s neck and shoulder.

Sherlock shouted out as he was rammed into the tiles and in a daze he felt John’s hands ease his hips back again and well-practiced fingers wrapped around his erection to pull the orgasm from him, finally giving his throbbing cock the attention he had been craving.

***

John turned his lover carefully around once they’d come down a little from their orgasms. Their chests were still heaving and John was fairly sure he’d be just as damp with sweat even if they weren’t in the shower. He brought Sherlock into a hug, leaning into him as he felt his strength falter a bit after such strenuous activities. When they parted again John grabbed the shower gel and gave them both a quick but thorough wash. Finally he turned off the shower and tugged at Sherlock’s hand. They stepped out and John pulled two towels from the rail. They both patted at damp skin and John was compelled to rub at Sherlock’s hair while he smiled down at him.

John shook his head a little. “That was bloody amazing,” he said, and his voice was a little croaky. He didn’t care.

Sherlock nodded. “I don’t know how you do that to me, John.”

John leaned up to kiss him, arms going back around each other, hugging close. “Bed?” he whispered as they gazed at each other.

“Yes,” Sherlock answered simply.

 


End file.
